


The Indigenous and the Frenchman

by Tiefgelegte_Hochstaplerin



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s), added second version, relationship can be read as friendship until the last chapter I quess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-04-28 18:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiefgelegte_Hochstaplerin/pseuds/Tiefgelegte_Hochstaplerin
Summary: [AC3] During the American Independence War two people meet: a stranger and an indigenous. None of them would have thought how deep their relationship would run. The relationship of Lafayette and Connor, outlined in five encounters.





	1. Kayewla

**Author's Note:**

> I am back with another Five Meetings for One Pair story. This time, exploring Connor's and Lafayette's friendship/relationship.  
> I want to make you, dear reader, aware that I took certain liberties with the game timeline as well as historic facts. Nothing should be too drastic but rather small changes for years etc.  
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this little exploration with me and I am always happy for feedback :3  
> Enjoy <3

_Valley Forge, November 1777_

 

An icy gust wept through the forest. Connor’s skin reacted with goose bumps to it. Under the chirping of birds he could hear the quiet gurgle of small runlets that had formed from the first short snowfall. Winter found its way. For now the snow wouldn’t stay or at most be a thin blanket over the grass but the wildlife was preparing itself. Connor didn’t know what the colonial soldiers meant to do. The winter would weaken them, deplete their supplies and diseases would rage. Connor was sceptical if the soldier even knew what they got themselves into.

Valley Forge, that opened up in front of Connor, consisted in large parts of wooden shelters and tents. A handful of cabins were built. No new ones would be added in the winter. They were mainly storerooms, sometimes small and confidential meetings happened in them. On some tents and wooden roofs still lay a thin snow blanket. The first soldiers wrapped themselves in blankets as long as they stayed in the open. The cold crept in hurt extremities. Connor heard orders in the typical accent of General von Steuben. Apparently it wasn’t cold enough yet for him to stop his discipline.

When Connor asked for Washington he was referred to one of the cabins. At one side a few horses were fastened what indicated a meeting inside. A lieutenant stood in front of the door and watched everyone who approached the cabin. With Washington as driving force of the revolution he was under special protection of his soldiers.

Connor approached the lieutenant. “I need to speak with George Washington. It’s about the supplies.” The lieutenant looked him over and Connor forced himself to relax his shoulders.

“Commander Washington is still in a meeting. I will report you afterwards”, was the answer. Silently Connor stepped a bit back from the cabin. He didn’t want to stand before it like a lost pet. He already felt a few strange looks from soldiers on himself. When he turned around everybody had averted their gaze. Worried Connor examined the soldiers’ condition.

Even when they stood, they were hunched over slightly. Hardly anyone talked with each other. Where the faces weren’t red from the cold gusts they looked waxy. The eyes were dull and sometimes lifeless. Problems with supplies became evident because the first cheeks sank and faces became small. The picture wasn’t reassuring regarding the revolution and made Connor fearful for the future of his tribe.

Connor’s attention was drawn to a man in the uniform of a major general who hobbled to a cart standing beside the next cabin. His hands stretched up towards a chair but his stance was shaky due to his leg and the attempt to keep a blanket around his shoulders. With long steps Connor came to his aid.

“Here, let me help you.” The chair was put against the cabin wall.

“Oh, thank you very much”, the man smiled and sank into the chair with a relieved sigh, his obviously injured leg stretched out. Connor’s eyes slid to it for a second before looking away the same moment. The major general noticed it anyway. He laughed quietly.

“A gunshot wound”, he explained unasked. Every word dripped with the French accent Connor knew too well from Stephane.

“Which battle?”

“Brandywire.” Connor nodded. He had heard of Brandywire – and the retreat. It was disquieting how more and more battles were lost. With the winter, he hoped, they wouldn’t engage in more fights. Otherwise the aftermath had potential to be devastating. Connor eyed up the man in front of him. In contrast to all the other soldiers he looked lively, his face open and friendly. His fingers played with the borders of the blanket, and he looked up at Connor like he wanted to say something but didn’t knew how.

“You are from France?”, Connor tried in French. For a moment his conversation partner looked at him surprised then his whole face lit up. At this sight Connor thought that the gruelling language lessons from Achilles had been worth it.

“ _Oui!_ ”, the man responded enthusiastically in his native tongue. “My name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de la Fayette. Or just Lafayette, as the soldiers call me. My name is quite a mouthful after all.” In contrast to all the other people Connor had dealt with, he didn’t reach out his hand. Maybe just because it was warmer under the blanket but Connor was relieved nonetheless.

“Connor.”

“Connor?”, Lafayette echoed surprised. Inquiring Connor raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I thought… _pardonne-moi_. I thought you’re from one of the indigenous tribes.” An observation Connor didn’t hear often.

“My name is…a mouthful for you”, he explained, reflecting Lafayette’s words.

“ _Bien sure_ ”, Lafayette admitted with a smile and continued more lively: “So you are the Connor the soldiers talk about? The Connor who saved Commander Washington? The one at Lexington and Concord?” The exuberance with which Lafayette asked all this made Connor nervous for some reason. He didn’t talk about these things with anybody but Achilles, keeping things quiet. And now Lafayette openly gushed about it like it were the deeds of a hero.

Connor just nodded but Lafayette seemed to have heard his thoughts. “Forgive me, I don’t want to put you on the spot”, he laughed good-natured. The understanding after just a few sentences was strange. “Where did you learn French?”, Lafayette switched the topic.

“From my mentor.”

“ _Très bien, très bien_. I will not interrogate you any longer.” Lafayette’s tone was light and friendly despite Connor’s short answers. “Please excuse my excitement. Sadly my English is barely enough for the battlefield, I still need to learn more. I am just happy being able to talk to somebody who is not from Commander Washington’s staff.”

“You…came here just to fight?” Due to this confession Connor felt somewhat obliged to keep at least a small conversation up. Something in him understood the Frenchman in front of him. Since he became an apprentice of Achilles – since the cry for help against William Johnson – he hadn’t spoken his own native tongue with anyone. It had been a lonely feeling in the beginning.

“What happens here is an honourable and important thing”, Lafayette said. “And something France can learn from when time comes. The colonies could become a symbol of independence and I want to bring this energy back to France. If I can help the colonies then I help despite what others say. My king even waived an edict that forbid French officers to fight in America.”

“And yet you are here.” The story sounded vaguely familiar for Connor’s ears.

“And yet I am here.” Lafayette’s smile was proud about this but something else mixed in between.

“You miss your country.” It wasn’t a question because Connor knew Lafayette’s situation too well. Little connected him with the soldiers and generals but the wish for a victory. But the Frenchman…they were two strangers in the army they helped because they wanted to help their own people. Connor couldn’t help it but to feel deep sympathy for Lafayette despite knowing him for only a few minutes.

Lafayette looked at him perplexed, then he smiled sadly. “ _Oui_ , I miss France. And that despite being here for only a few months.” He uttered a brief laugh. “You never know what you have…” Connor assumed he alluded to a proverb and simply nodded in agreement.

“I know that feeling”, he confessed, in hopes of giving comfort. Lafayette examined him closely for the first time, his soft eyes becoming thoughtful.

“ _Alors_ …you really aren’t from the Oneida, are you?” The question threw Connor off track for a second. He shook his head. “Even now in winter I think the tribe dresses differently…”

“You know the Oneida?” The thought was even more surprising than the initial question. Connor had become used to the ignorance of colonialists; that they had no interest in the indigenous tribes beside land and food. For them Connor’s tribe looked the same as any other tribe – and in the next pub they brawled over their family’s heritage.

“I was with them for a short time…at a meeting of the Iroquois League. It wasn’t enough to actually get to know the specific tribe, I fear.  But you indigenous people are so different and have such an interesting culture. It’s quite like Europe with its countries.” The comparison didn’t sit right with Connor but at the same time Lafayette’s genuine fascination was refreshing. “Maybe I can visit the tribe after the revolution is over. After the first introduction they all were very friendly and accommodating. There were women and children too! The children got frightened when they untightened my wig.” Lafayette laughed loudly.

“Your wigs don’t make much sense to us”, Connor agreed. Lafayette’s eyes sparkled.

“Neither did I understand as a child why I should wear false hair to look like an old man in my twenties. And now look at me: Barely twenty and a wig so white, I would never find it in the snow should I lose it!” Connor’s barely detectable smirk was apparently enough agreement for Lafayette.

He sighed relieved after he stopped laughing. “I am happy that the Oneida help us. Hopefully some of them stay longer in the camp. My horse got so used to their care that it didn’t look at the equerry for two days.” While Lafayette amused himself with this memory, the scales fell from Connor’s eyes.

“You are Kayewla?”, it burst from him and he immediately felt ashamed for it. Lafayette looked up at him and before Connor could apologize he giggled.

“ _Mon dieu_ , my reputation precedes me. The Oneida call me this at least, _oui_. Regrettably I don’t quite understand what it means and I fear it’s rude to ask again after all this time.” Curious he looked at Connor who changed his stance.

“My and their tribe share few words and even fewer history”, he admitted. Lafayette’s interest seemed genuine; like he actually wanted to learn and wouldn’t push it aside like others. “As far as I know of the tribe, Kayewla was the name of a great warrior. The name means something along the lines of fearless…rider? I…never saw a tribe giving a name to an outsider.”

Lafayette laughed somewhat sheepish. “ _Bien_ …I left an impression for sure.”

“I am sorry, I didn’t want to offend you”, Connor apologized immediately. “I am sure, the Oneida meant it as a positive gesture.”

“Don’t worry, Connor”, Lafayette grinned. “Until I know it better I will wear the name like an honorary title. As you had put it so felicitous, the Oneida gave me a name in their language in the first place.”

Angry voices were heard from the cabin that housed the meeting. Bewildered Connor turned away from Lafayette. “Ah, this lovely voice belongs to my friend. The meeting should be over any moment. Something political.” The amusement of Lafayette wasn’t comprehensible for Connor but he assumed nothing bad happened inside.

Shortly after this the door was torn open angrily and a man stormed out, walking straightaway towards Lafayette. Before he could utter a word Lafayette pointed at Connor. “Alexander, may I introduce you? This is Connor, my new acquaintance. Connor, this is my friend Alexander Hamilton. One of the few I can talk to in French.”

“Pleasure to meet you”, Connor mumbled.

“The pleasure is mine”, Hamilton replied shortly, his thoughts clearly still at the meeting. Two other men left the cabin und mounted their horses. Lafayette watched Hamilton’s sour face amused.

“Does your leg hurt again?”, Hamilton finally asked his friend worried. His anger dissipated with a look on the spot where the wound lay.

“Not more than usual”, Lafayette replied.

“You there!”, the lieutenant called for Connor. “You can go to Commander Washington now.”

Connor nodded and looked at Lafayette. “ _A bientôt_ , Connor”, the man grinned. Hamilton beside him shuffled around like he wanted to say something that wasn’t meant for Connor’s ears.

“Lafayette”, he answered whereupon his new acquaintance pouted. His eyes said something else though: he too understood that they were in a similar situation, without Connor having said much. “Kayewla.” At Lafayette’s happy giggle Connor sighed with amusement.

“ _Merci_.” And they didn’t need to say what for. Between all the (for Connor) fey colonialists he had found someone who was just as much a stranger as himself. And they recognized each other by names that weren’t theirs. This understanding was new for Connor but he welcomed it. Whenever he would need to speak to Washington again he would be on the lookout for Lafayette.  
  


 


	2. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette finally visits Homestead, even if it's just out of worry for Connor.  
> The chapter is also dubbed "The start of a fruity running gag"

 

_Homestead, end of July 1778_

 

Summer in Massachusetts was pleasantly warm but accompanied by a veil of humidity. Lafayette missed the dryness of Paris in this mugginess. It was only helpful when one travelled in the forest with its shadows. Luckily for Lafayette Homestead lay at the ocean and a cool breeze drove away the heat. The grand manor overlooked a beautiful bay with a handful of huts at the beach. The sunlight’s reflexions on the waves glared a bit so that he had to squint his eyes.

“It is as I thought, Monsieur, Connor is still at sea.” Lafayette turned around to his spontaneous companion. He met the young woman – initially disguised as a young Mr. Wickham coming from their work in Boston – on the forest track towards Homestead. Since they both had the same way and a conversation in careful English and even more careful French started quickly, they covered the rest of the way together. For Lafayette it was always more entertaining than a lonely ride.

“So I came for nothing?”, he asked disappointed. He had hoped to rest for a moment and to talk to Connor. Although they had seen each other from time to time in Washington’s camp they hadn’t talked to each other in light of the last events.

“Provided he didn’t found problems out there he will be back in a few hours. Connor doesn’t dare to leave things to themselves here just yet”, Viktoria appeased him. “My two friends and I are going down to greet the sailors when they come back. If you don’t pass up a simple meal, feel welcome to join us.”

 

                Viktoria’s friends Siobhán and Bébhinn, with whom she lived together in Homestead, received Lafayette friendly while they ate at some hastily made table near the dock. It became clear to Lafayette very quickly just how unconventional the three young ladies were, and he liked their ways. Two hours passed by unnoticed, then Viktoria pointed past Lafayette beside her. “Look, they are coming. You will hear the shanties soon if you’re quiet.”

Indeed the wind blew the voices of sailors to them, and finally the ship with Connor too. The three ladies crowed and cheered with laughter at the crew which the men echoed in the same manner. “Oh Captain, my captain!”, Viktoria commented Connor’s step on the dock.

For a moment Lafayette was nearly shocked. You couldn’t overlook Connor, unless he wanted you to. But never had Lafayette seen him so absolutely confident. The small quirk with his hands, every time Connor had to do with other people, was gone. Instead of his white and practical clothes he wore a captain’s outfit complete to the hat.

“My son!”, Siobhán laughed and…there was the Connor again Lafayette had come to known. He looked a bit sheepish over to the ladies before his eyes stopped confused at Lafayette.

“Lafayette?”, he asked.

“ _Oui, mon ami_ ”, came the confirmation with a smile. Connor exchanged a few words with an older guy beside him before stepping aside with Lafayette.

“Did something happen?”, Connor asked.

“Ah, _non_. I thought I stop by. Quite…a few things happened, right?”, Lafayette countered Connor’s worry with his own. Connor avoided his eyes. “If you don’t want to talk about it we don’t have to. You can show me around, we have a polite conversation…” After a look towards the sailors unloading the ship Connor said:

“Let’s get inside.”

 

                  “I have to say, being captain suits you.” Playing with the hat in his hand Connor looked quizzically at him. “Very dashing. A gentleman. And it rejuvenates you.” It was silent inside the manor. Lafayette hung his travel coat at the coat rack. When he turned towards Connor again, the man looked suspiciously at him. “It was meant as a compliment”, he assured honestly and Connor’s shoulders relaxed.

“Thank you.”

“Do the young ladies often wait for the sailors’ return?”

“From time to time. They drink and dance them under the table. Siobh has a list of rematches for arm-wrestling to work off.” Connor led Lafayette into the kitchen where small fruit pies stood on the table.

“Nobody waiting for you?” Connor’s look was too comical for Lafayette to not snicker. “Pardon, that’s none of my business. If you want to change first…”

Lafayette feasted on the fruit pies until Connor returned. Dressed in just a linen shirt and trousers he looked far younger and gentler. Somehow Lafayette liked to forget that Connor was just a year older. Feeling a bit out of place in this simplicity Lafayette took off his wig and ruffled through his brown hair. Connor’s eyes lay curiously on it but Lafayette saw the fatigue on his face.

“I will not avoid the actual topic longer”, Lafayette said. “I think you appreciate a straightforward communication. After your shortfall with Washington…How do I say this? We don’t know each other for long, Connor, but I don’t think you are man who loses his temper or patience quickly. What happened between you and Commander Washington? _Before_ Monmouth.” Connor avoided his gaze and Lafayette felt like a parent scolding his child – which wasn’t what he wanted. He sighed.

“I…I am worried for you. You look tired”, he explained himself. “Surely I have no right to know ev-…”

“He wanted to attack my village.”

“What?” Connor looked at Lafayette.

“Washington wanted to give order to attack my village. They had sided with the British.” Lafayette’s mouth was ajar. His response was more reflexive than reflected:

“The Commander would never…”

“He had!”, Connor interrupted him angrily. Lafayette’s mouth snapped shut. “My tribe is desperate. Nobody cares for their fate.” On the table Connor’s hands closed to fists. His anger made one thing clear for Lafayette: he and Connor both were strangers in the Continental Army but Lafayette also was a stranger to this country. He saw no problem with the indigenous tribes siding with who they trusted. It was war. But apparently Washington did…

“He has…you said he wanted…” Dismay slowly set in.

“I intercepted the messenger…” The rest was left unsaid.

“I never thought that Washington… _mon dieu_ …”

“What does it change for you?”, Connor asked and a certain bitterness resonated. “You will not turn away from him because of it. The colonists are coming here and want more and more. They besiege my tribe because they want the land we settled on for hundreds of years. They come here and say they are entitled to everything they want. And they want us out of the way for it.”

There was nothing Lafayette wanted to oppose. “As cheap ally we are good enough. To do the dirty work. Otherwise they want us out of the way. Washington isn’t different than all the other colonists. And still the fate of us indigenous tribes depends on him and his revolution.”

In Lafayette’s ears rang Connor’s words to Washington: _“Enjoy your victory, Commander. It will be the last I deliver you.”_ It escaped him how severe the situation actually was. “I am relieved that you denied Commander Washington further help after Monmouth”, he confessed. “What I had heard from other soldiers let me suspect that Washington used you. But I wasn’t aware how bad the situation actually is.” Connor wearily waved aside while the need to apologize remained in Lafayette. But he knew it wouldn’t change anything.

“Then I assume that Lee had a lot to do with this whole ordeal?” It felt more like Charles Lee had his hands in more things than this one. But Lafayette contented himself with Connor at least talking about one thing with him.

“I have intercepted Washington’s messenger but it was too late. Charles Lee had convinced my tribe that they had to take actions against the soldiers; that I had turned away from them.” Lafayette didn’t like Charles Lee, neither did Hamilton nor Laurens. But their aversion against his words against Washington paled in comparison to what this man did to Connor.

“I could knock most of them unconscious. But Kanen’tó:kon…” Connor hid his face in his hands for a second before he pulled them back and stared at them. “He was my friend. He trusted me. And because of Lee…he thought I was his enemy.” Lafayette’s heart cramped in cognizance and he reached out to hold Connor’s hand. In the last moment he recollected himself and let his own hand fall back on the table.

“I’m sorry for your loss”, he whispered. For a few moments nobody said a thing. “If…” Lafayette sighed. “What do you need, Connor?” Their eyes met and Lafayette hoped that Connor saw how sincere he was.

“Nothing”, he shook his head before he added: “Thank you for asking.” And maybe, thought Lafayette, was this all Connor needed. On the wide shoulders of this young man lay an even heavier burden that he endured silently.

“If it’s a comfort for you, no matter how little, Lee will be put on trial for Monmouth. It’s a sure thing that they will withdraw his command at least for a while”, Lafayette said. “And if you’re lucky, he will die soon in a duel. His personal attacks against Washington upset a lot of soldiers in the army.”

There was a dry burst out of laughing from Connor. “I slowly start to see why you turned your back to Washington. Even when I will never fully understand it. I am happy that you did it. Nobody should be treated like this from his supposed allies. You made the right decision. But it’s also certain that Washington is the only one who can keep this revolution alive. Without him we would have lost already and the British won. Soldiers and officers alike look up to him and that’s the only reason they keep fighting for their freedom. History has its eyes on him. And even if my admiration was dented a bit, he will always be a great man for me. I am European and I have never suffered under him.” The confession tasted bitter for Lafayette but he didn’t want to lie to Connor.

“I know”, was Connor’s answer to that. Fear to lose his friendship with Connor festered in Lafayette. This young man had given him more feeling of home in a few short encounters than Washington’s whole staff in months.

“But this one thing I can assure you of, Connor. Whenever you need my help, I will grant it. No matter if against Lee or dangers to your village. As long as it’s not against Washington’s life.”

 “Don’t feel obligated.”

“This is not obligation, Connor!”, Lafayette objected vehemently and startled Connor with his intensity. “You are my friend – at least from my perspective. And that means that your happiness and your pain means something to me, and that I will help you. What Lee did to you with his actions is unforgivable. Whatever you need to bring him down, you have my support. And I will never force you, not even on Washington’s order, to work with the army again in a way that is repugnant to you or misuses you.”

“Lafayette…”

“You have taught me a few things today, Connor. And it will take a while for me to grasp all the implications that come with it. But don’t take me for a dishonourable, spineless man or I will challenge you to a duel as it is fashion.”

“Lafayette.” Connor…smiled. “I didn’t want to offend you. If I had serious doubt, I now would be convinced of your loyalty.” With his height Connor didn’t need to raise his head much to look at Lafayette. “You can sit down again.”

“Oh…” Lafayette didn’t notice he had leapt to his feet; his wig in hand as if he wanted to throw it like a glove for a challenge to duel. Embarrassed he took his seat again.

“Thank you, my friend.” Lafayette smiled at that. He wouldn’t lose Connor. Relief flooded him. Curious how fast one could become attached to someone.

“ _Alors_ …with all things said…”, he hummed, “…I haven’t seen much of Homestead yet. If you don’t have other business to attend to…?”

“Of course not.”

 

Connor showed Lafayette around the house, leaving the room with the sleeping, sick Achilles out. After that they rode through Homestead. Prudence was excited about the dashing Frenchman and even Lafayette had a hard time to tear himself away. In the garden of Siobhán, Viktoria and Bébhinn nothing but chicken ran around because the ladies were still partying at the bay with the sailors.

Since it was late already it was decided that Lafayette would stay over night and get going at dawn. At dinner they spoke about the newest developments of the Continental Army – Gate’s discharge, Barren Hill, New York. They eventually landed on folk tales and told each other some they knew. It was interesting for Lafayette how little those had in common and how much at the same time.

 

                The morning came fast and after a short breakfast Lafayette readied for departure. Connor insisted on saddling Lafayette’s horse himself. They stood in the corridor while Lafayette put back on his travel coat.

For a moment there was nothing but silence between them. This time they had spent more than a few minutes with each other and they felt it. Their relationship had developed further with time and the conversation the day before. After Connor had confided in him so much, Lafayette now wanted to confess something on his own.

“I don’t want to say that I know how you feel”, he said. “But believe me when I say that you have my deepest sympathy for the death of your friend.” Even before speaking it out loud, Lafayette felt his eyes still filling with tears. “A few months ago, I received a message that my daughter Henriette had died. She was two.”

“I am sorry for your loss”, Connor echoed Lafayette’s word the day before. His hands wrung in each other. “What…do you need?” Lafayette laughed surprised and looked at Connor with a small smile.

“Stretch out your hand”, he simply said. Confused Connor followed the request, hand outstretched in front of him like he wanted to shake somebody else’s. Without a word Lafayette put his hand loosely in Connor’s. Still confused Connor looked at them before he seemed to understand and closed his around Lafayette’s. Probably more out of reflex than knowingly his thumb stroked over the back of Lafayette’s hand.

“I think this is as much as we both can bear”, Lafayette commented amused. After he realised that Lafayette avoided a hug for his sake, Connor became flustered. Before he could explain Lafayette simply said: “It’s okay, Connor. We all have our boundaries.” Lafayette looked down on their hands for a second, felt Connor’s warm skin against his.

“ _Alors, mon ami_. I fear I have to go now. With one worry less I can dedicate myself fully to the British again. Please give my kind regards to the three young ladies from yesterday. They were outmost friendly.”

While riding towards the forest track, Lafayette turned around a last time. In the door frame of the manor stood Connor and lifted a hand for farewell. Lafayette smiled.

 


	3. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette returns to America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette returns, brings up the name issue and generally has no chill when it comes to his friendships.  
> The fruity gag continues...

_Boston, April 1780_

 

 

Screaming gulls flew around the masts of the _Hermoine_ as she pulled into the harbor of Boston. Servants philandered with sailors, vendors ballyhooed their goods, soldiers marched past in small groups, and carriages with well-heeled people tried to cleave. Lafayette took a deep breath – the smell of salt and fish. He was back.  
  
“ _Monsieur_!” Rident he was grabbed by the arm as soon as he made two steps away from the plank. In front of him stood Viktoria in working clothes. “ _Monsieur_ , there you are!”  
  
“Mr. Wickham!”, Lafayette answered her laugh and they shook hands before giving each other a clasp on the shoulder. “I see, the year didn’t do any harm to you. How’s business?”  
  
“You didn’t change a bit either, thank God. I can’t complain business-wise. Do you have quarters already? Things to pursue?”  
  
“No lodging so far. Just the plan to catch up on things.”  
  
“A little tip: Oyster House.”  
  


 

The Oyster House tavern was easy to find, being still in the harbor quarter. The innkeeper send Lafayette to room number 3 after the later said his name. At least for the night the tavern would be enough. Lafayette was sure that Hamilton had already notified a few people of his return who would welcome him the upcoming days. And even if not, Lafayette had survived worse sleeping arrangements. When he opened the door to the room though, he was presented with somebody he didn’t expected.  
  
“Connor!”, he called out excited and strode towards the young man with opened arms. It seemed like an eternity to him that he had seen the indigenous.  
  
“Lafayette”, Connor smiled warmly. In the last moment Lafayette stopped in his tracks and instead of a hug he took of his hat for a greeting and finally his wig for comfort. A year in France and he didn’t forget. “Welcome back in America.”  
  
“A truly lovely welcome. First _mademoiselle_ Viktoria and now you, _mon ami_. I am back.” With a smile Lafayette sat down at the table. On it stood a basket with fruit pie.  
  
“A little attention from Bhinn and Siobh.” Lafayette laughed happily and pointed him to sit.  
  
“How was your work in France?”, Connor asked after Lafayette scarfed down the first pie.  
  
“Successful! Even though I spend the first days under house arrest.” Inquiring Connor looked at him. “The decree that French officers are not allowed to serve here?” Connor nodded at the reminder of their first conversation. “But just a few days afterwards I was already on the hunt with the king. The alliance will make our countries stronger than ever. I won over General Rochambeau and with him 6000 soldiers!”  
  
“That sounds very good.” At Connor’s serious tone Lafayette lowered his hand that already held the next pie.  
  
“You don’t give me much hope. What happened, _mon ami_?”  
  
“The Continental Army had to endure a lot of setbacks. Your help is desperately needed.”  
  
“I heard as much from Alexander already”, Lafayette nodded. “I also heard that you had a finger in the pie called Fort West Point?” Connor sighed but nodded. “But you haven’t helped Commander Washington in anything else, _n’est-ce pas_?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“ _Trés bien_! So what is it then? Is it this bastard Lee?” Lafayette leaned forward. At the way Connor’s mouth hardened he knew that he had hit the nail on the head. With the withdrawal of his command and the gunshot wound from Laurens he had hoped Lee would be easier to reach for Connor.  
  
“ _Incroyable_! How does he do that?”, Lafayette got agitated.  
  
“He has…the right connections.” Again Lafayette got the feeling that Connor didn’t tell him everything but he didn’t prod further.  
  
“My offering still stands, Connor, if need be”, Lafayette instead reminded him of his promise in Homestead a year ago. The small smile from Connor Lafayette claimed as a victory. He inhaled the next fruit pie while he stretched out his legs under the table. Accidently he pushed against Connor’s.  
  
“How was Paris?” Lafayette felt how Connor’s legs leaned against his. It was nearly impossible for Lafayette not to grin.  
  
“ _Splendid_! Nothing can surpass the comfort of your home. I spend time with my wife and my children. I was happy to find them well. And everywhere you hear people speak about the revolution! Jefferson does everything he can to gather support. A brilliant man.” Lafayette had so much to tell about Paris but now that he sat in front of Connor again, his need to do so vanished. The only letter exchange between them was about Lafayette’s idea to attack the British in Europe (and the one about his return). Connor’s opinion that it wouldn’t succeed proved right. Furthermore Lafayette hadn’t dared to molest his friend since Connor was away most of the time anyway, chasing his own business and Charles Lee.  
  
When he examined their friendship so far, it consisted of big parts of Lafayette talking and Connor willingly listening. Even with his growing affection for his friend with every meeting, he had to admit that he knew little about him. What he knew was that Connor didn’t want him to know certain things. And when he regarded Connor like he did now…did he really need to know everything to feel connected with him?  
  
With the man with the young face that was hardened from life but could turn soft with every smile. With the man whose dark eyes saw and critically analyzed everything but also could become wide and open with emotions. With the man whose hands had killed countless people and lifted the heaviest things, just to shy away from friendly contacts with other humans and grab each other in a nervous tick.  
  
Lafayette smiled unconsciously which Connor mirrored. It eased Connor that Lafayette looked well-fed despite the passage (and his ravenous appetite for the fruit pies). The problems with the supplies in the army had become noticeable fast with Lafayette back then. Now his cheeks were full again and became pink with happiness easily. Even his eyes had found their shine again in Paris, the horrors of the battlefield locked away in the deepest corner of his mind for the time being. Connor was truly glad that his friend was better now.  
  
“What?”, Connor asked when Lafayette kept smiling silently at him instead of talking up a storm about Paris.  
  
“You still haven’t told me your name”, Lafayette observed. With an interested look he supported his chin on his hand and leaned towards Connor. “Since our first meeting you know my full name and the name the Oneida gave me. And I just have the name people call you for the sake of convenience.”  
  
For the sake of convenience…Connor wouldn’t call it that. Connor rather had been a camouflage for him to make people accessible to him.  
  
“You think the people call me like this for convenience?”  
  
“I think you introduce yourself like this because you know barely anyone will make the effort to pronounce your name properly.” Only too well Lafayette remembered Connor’s remark concerning this matter at their first meeting. And even if he could imagine that Connor’s name was difficult to pronounce for most Europeans, it still was a shame. For how long had he not been called by his birth name?  
  
Connor’s eyes clung to the table. The unspoken, and probably unintentional too, insight in Lafayette’s words hit him. Yes, Achilles gave him the name as an entrance into the new world. But by now Connor had become aware that he started a new life with the new name. Ratonhnhaké:ton had stopped existing when he started his assassin training. The last time somebody called him by his right name, it was spoken with anger and pain of betrayal. Connor had felt like his name had shattered once and for all. To give his name to somebody else again now…  
  
A faint touch against his calf brought Connor back to reality. Lafayette’s eyes had become soft, soothing. “If it pains you, you don’t have to tell me.” In all those years it surprised Connor again and again how accurate Lafayette could read him. Most of the soldiers and generals saw Lafayette as this naïve, blustery, young man but they often forgot that he was armed with an acuteness of mind and power of observation.  
  
“It’s…I don’t even know how it must be to give up your name and introduce yourself with another one just because people don’t even want to try for a good pronunciation. I cannot promise that I will be better the first few times. But when the British and Germans can learn French then I can learn to pronounce your name right”, Lafayette explained and nodded reinforcingly afterwards.  
  
When was the last time somebody payed attention to Connor’s feelings and comfort? Under the table Connor’s foot reciprocated Lafayette’s gesture. “Ratonhnhaké:ton.” Attentively Lafayette looked at him.  
  
“Again, please”, Lafayette smiled and Connor repeated his name.  
  
The first try didn’t sound half as mangled as Connor had heard it from colonists, mainly because those never tried. Still Connor couldn’t suppress the twitch of his mouth. Lafayette laughed.  
  
“ _Pardon_. I will improve.” If Connor wanted or not, Lafayette was serious about learning his name correctly.

 

 

     “Ratonhnhaké:ton”, Lafayette said after ten minutes of listening and repeating. It was close to a punch in the gut.  
  
“Correct”, Connor said. He hadn’t heard his name in such a long time.  
  
“ _Enfin_!”, Lafayette cheered and threw his hands into the air and grinned. “Ratonhnhaké:ton. I will diligently practice, so I will not forget it again”, he promised faithfully. Connor wrenched a smile from himself. He wasn’t prepared for what emotions the whole thing would trigger.  
  
“What’s wrong, _mon ami_?” Shocked Lafayette looked at Connor’s fist on the table that started to tremble. His arms fell down slowly, his cheer gave way to worry. Did he do something wrong? Should he have dropped the whole name-thing? Did he pressure Con-Ratonhnhaké:ton?  
  
“Nothing”, Connor said and leaned back in his chair. “It…it’s been a while”, he confessed with a faint burst of laugh. The manic thought welled up in him that Lafayette’s joyful pronunciation of his name could erase the memory of Kanen’tó:kon’s disgust. He pushed it aside with all his might.  
  
“I am sorry that no one ever asked for your name, Ratonhnhaké:ton.” Connor felt like Lafayette had absorbed all the air from his lungs. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t feel like this just because a friend called him by his birth name. The memories came back with it – his mother and his carefree childhood, the songs sang and the warm embrace to put him to sleep. The memory of a feeling of security, of home.  
  
“I became Connor when I left my tribe and was apprenticed to Achilles”, Connor heard himself say but he didn’t look at Lafayette. “Back then it seemed to be the right thing. To leave the tribe to protect them. But maybe I just did it because I had no family to hold me. My mother died when I was a child, in a fire started by Charles Lee. Even though the whole tribe took care of me afterwards…”  
  
“…it’s not the same as the care of your mother”, Lafayette finished understandingly when Connor couldn’t.  
  
“I became Connor. The only one who still called me by my name after I left was Kanen’tó:kon. He was the only one from the tribe I still saw. He was the last one who called me by my name before I killed him. Full of the thought that I had betrayed him.”  
  
Lafayette felt kind of helpless at this open confession from Connor. He wanted to embrace his friend or at least take his hands with a strong grip to show him that he had his sympathy and support. Instead Lafayette enclosed Connor’s legs between his – a different form of embrace Connor didn’t shy away from.  
  
“That must have been terrible. I can’t even imagine to be in a situation like this. But Con-“, Lafayette cleared his throat, “but Ratonhnhaké:ton, if I have to scream your name a thousand times in the most joyful way to you, to erase this feeling…” Connor looked back to Lafayette. “…say one word and I will. Your name shouldn’t be painful.” And in Lafayette’s eyes, his words and his assuring smile Connor found the feeling of home again after all those years.  
  
For a bit they sat in this silence while Connor tried to get back control over his feelings. Lafayette didn’t disturb him. What Connor just told him was an enormous act of faith in Lafayette who was acutely aware of it. He wouldn’t push his friend any further.  
  
“I can barely remember my mother”, Lafayette confessed after a while. “I spend maybe four years of my childhood with her. My father died when I was two years old, and after that my mother moved to her mother in Paris. I stayed in Chavaniac with my grandmother from father’s side. When I was elven years old, my mother called me to Paris. She died not even two years later.” He panned the room while trying to remember.  
  
“There isn’t much I have left of her in my mind. Not even her face. I remember her perfume, of all things. And that she told me once I should live more careful than my father had. We Lafayettes have a reputation of heroic courage and chivalry but we are also accredited with a certain ignorance for danger. My mother was worried she would outlive me.”  
  
“You clearly didn’t took her advice to heart.” Lafayette mirrored the teasing sparkle in Connor’s eyes with a laugh.  
  
“What can I do? Apparently it runs in the family. Maybe it’s better that she doesn’t abide by us anymore. Not later than now I would have driven her to her grave.” Connor smiled.

 

 

     Time flew by. This time they talked about their childhood how you can only talk about it when you have left it behind you. Connor commented that Siobhán would always tease him that he sounded like an old man when he talked about it. Lafayette agreed giggling. They both sounded like they would already spend their evening of life. The fruit pies disappeared quickly out of the basket one by one. Finally Connor announced his departure.  
  
Somewhere during their talk their feet had entangled in each other like coming home after a long day and finding comfort in the other. The places where they had touched just now, became cold when they freed themselves and stood up.  
  
“The room is yours as long as you need it”, Connor informed Lafayette. When the latter wanted to protest Connor interrupted him: “The innkeeper still owes me one, and I have other quarters where I can stay if needed.”  
  
“ _Mon ami_ , you are too good to me”, Lafayette grinned. “I will take it for the night thankfully. Comes tomorrow I will visit acquaintances here in Boston and then go to Commander Washington soon.” Connor nodded, then opened the door.  
  
“And don’t forget…”, Lafayette reminded him a last time, “…if you ever need my help, you will have it.” When Connor had left, and the room seemed much lonelier, Lafayette’s eyes fell on the empty basket on the table. Maybe he would have time to pass by Homestead before riding to Washington.

 


	4. A Child's Suffering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Fort George.

_North Atlantic by Fort George, September 1781_

 

“Request permission to come aboard, _monsieur_ Falkner.”  
  
“Permission granted, major general Lafayette.”  
  
Quickly Lafayette went across the laid-out plank to enter the Aquila. Admiral de Grasse let the plank be reeled in again but gave one last verbal warning to Lafayette that he would send for him after one hour.  
  
“He’s in his cabin. Got it real bad”, Falkner said quietly to Lafayette. Worry was written all over the face of this hard-boiled man which made Lafayette fear even more for Connor. He rushed to his friend.  
  
The ship’s doctor just left the cabin when Lafayette arrived there. Quietly he closed the door behind him and looked at Lafayette seriously. “He’s battered but he’ll survive. Most likely a concussion from the explosion around him and a lot of cuts and stab wounds. I order strict bed rest so that his wounds don’t open again.”  
  
When Lafayette entered, Connor lay in a bed that seemed too small for his figure. Parts of his upper body and arms were wrapped in bandages and on a small table stood forgotten a bowl with bloodied water and a cloth. “Ratonhnhaké:ton”, it escaped Lafayette, see-saw between shock and relief.  
  
Instead of answering, Connor averted his eyes. His face seemed to be made out of stone. Without asking Lafayette knew that Lee had escaped once more. He saw the wounds Connor had to bear to get this one chance; the assistance he had to provide in Chesapeake Bay to get help for this one chance; the years Lee had escaped again and again and again…  
  
 _“Putain de merde! Ce fils de pute!”_ The bowl crashed against the wooden wall. Water and blood wet the ground while the cloth landed there with a wet smack. _“Que le diable l’emporte!”_ Lafayette didn’t know who to be mad at first. At Charles Lee, this bastard, who escaped time and time again? At his French countrymen and the Continental Army that they had claimed help for themselves first as always? Or at himself, he who had promised Connor to help in every way, especially when it came to Charles Lee?  
  
Tired and hopeless Lafayette pulled himself a chair to the bed. How? How did everything go so wrong? They had engineered everything… Frustrated he removed his wig and threw it on the table where just a moment ago the water bowl had resided. Connor remained silent and if Lafayette hadn’t rubbed over his face he would have seen his friend’s eyes drifting into an unknown distance.  
  
“What happened?”, Lafayette finally had the courage to ask, eyes on the scratches and cuts that didn’t require bandages. They had to stem from a fierce fight because Lafayette didn’t believe that Connor would be hurt like this just from the canon fire. The silence between them stretched and Lafayette wondered if this would be the first time that Connor would pull back from their friendship-resulted openness.  
  
“My father”, Connor quietly said.  
  
“Your father?”, echoed Lafayette without knowing what exactly he asked about. That Connor knew his father? That his father had been there? That he fought with his father? The portraits on the basement’s wall came back to his mind.  
  
“Charles Lee…he works for my father”, Connor’s next words confirmed Lafayette’s memory. The man with the proud posture and the unyielding touch around the mouth, whose picture was enthroned over the others, was Connor’s father. ‘Haythem’ had been written under the portrait if Lafayette remembered correctly.  
  
“Was Lee there?”  
  
“No. My father had sent him away. He knew I was coming.” Connor’s hands balled to fists, his jaw tensed visibly.  
  
“You fought…?” Carefully Lafayette worked around the issue. One wrong question or assessment and Connor would forever keep silent about this. The encounter with his father had deeply hurt something in him and if Lafayette knew one thing then that Connor wasn’t able to deal well with such things.  
  
“Yes”, came the answer with a choked voice. Connor avoided Lafayette’s eyes and starred at a point in an imaginary distance. What Lafayette saw in his eyes regardless was everything he needed to know. As soon as Connor was in Homestead, he would cross out another portrait.  
  
 _“Mon dieu.”_ The whispered expression wasn’t registered by Lafayette himself. Connor had never talked about his father. Just upon Lafayette’s return he had opened up about his mother. Lafayette maybe didn’t have a clue what value Connor’s father had in his life but by the looks of it neither had Connor. This realization made Lafayette’s heart hurt even more for his friend.  
  
A barely noticeable sound of pain bought Lafayette’s focus back to Connor who currently was trying to sit up. “ _Non_. You stay down. Your wounds…”, Lafayette reprimanded but Connor’s defiant look shut him up. With a sigh Lafayette helped him, rearranged the pillow for a more comfortable support. Just to make sure he scrunched up his blue coat and put it in Connor’s back too.  
  
“Ratonhnhaké:ton…”  
  
“Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it”, Connor cut Lafayette off brusquely – anger because he didn’t know how to handle his feelings; maybe even shame because he was stopped by his father and even now let himself be influenced by him. Lafayette stayed silent where he normally would reply.  
  
“I always wondered…”, Connor eventually started after a silent while, “what man my father would be. I knew my friends’ fathers but my mother’s side always remained empty. I knew that he was white. But not why he left…or even came.” Connor’s eyes became soft under this childhood trauma; under the memory of a small boy who couldn’t understand the world just yet. Lafayette felt like looking into a mirror from all the times he had explained his children that there was no second grandfather for them.  
  
“I was naïve, childish to believe that we could work together. That besides all those centuries of history between our orders and all our differences, we could find a way together. I let him use me. I let myself be blinded by his words and gestures, just because…” Connor stopped. His shame applied to his own feelings, his human needs. Oh, Lafayette knew this feeling too well.  
  
“We all…”, he said softly, eyes on Connor’s fist on the white sheet, “…wish for the acceptance of our parents. No matter how old we become. My father was a phantom to me, a portrait in a saloon and one cavaliers’ story after another. Deep inside, despite my young years, I hated him for a long time for leaving me. But when you think I would not have embraced him in my arms the second he would have stood before me again…” Lafayette shook his head. For years he had told himself this, wishing to finally accept its truth. He felt his old wound opening again. He saw in Connor’s eyes the very same wound that he wouldn’t admit having. So Lafayette’s just bleed stronger in his place.  
  
“There is something immeasurable strong in this ability – in this boundless love and willingness to forgive that children possess. Few of us keep it when we grow up.”  
  
“Lafayette…?”  
  
“No, Ratonhnhaké:ton. Let me teach you something this time.” Lafayette spoke over tears that started to flow despite his intentions. Carefully he clasped Connor’s fist with his hand. “I forgave my mother that she had left me the exact moment I saw her again for the first time. Just to feel betrayed when she died soon after. It took a long time to get over this. I couldn’t accept that I had become her son through and through again despite the best of my knowledge. That I had been naïve enough to believe her affection would stay for a long time. And I couldn’t accept that, in the end, I simply mourned the idea of a perfect world with my mother when I should have known better.”  
  
Connor’s hand now held Lafayette’s with unexpected carefulness. “Those things make us human. They tell us that we still have a chance. When you stop hoping, Ratonhnhaké:ton…the world would be lost would we ever lose hope. It doesn’t make us naïve and it’s not a bad trait. Hope drives us to be a better version of ourselves and she lets us overcome situations we never thought we would survive.”  
  
Firmly Lafayette looked Connor in the eyes – as well as he could over his veil of tears, at least. Just as firmly he squeezed Connor’s hand. “I have the utmost respect for you, Ratonhnhaké:ton, and for the hope you kept in yourself after all this. I know that it will not mean much to you for the moment, but still, your strength to hope and your ability to sustain this hope until the bitter end…It makes you the greatest man I ever had the honour to call my friend and companion.”  
  
Something in Connor broke apart. “It hurts just as much to lose the idea of a father as it hurts to lose one’s father. It’s the same for everybody. And if you can’t mourn for this then let me do it for you.” Lafayette’s words and his empathy for Connor touched the latter deeply. It relieved him to see Lafayette’s grief since he couldn’t admit this feeling to himself.  
  
“You already do, my friend”, Connor replied thoughtfully and cradled Lafayette’s hands with his in his lap. He took a shaking breath. As blunt as Lafayette had revealed his wound, as carefully he felt tended. It felt like a lifetime ago that somebody…  
  
The feeling of loneliness overwhelmed him. He had no parents anymore. Achilles was on his deathbed. People like Stephane followed him but didn’t approach closer. His idea, his fight, his goal swam into an unknown distance out of reach; it shattered on the floor. Between his hands he felt Lafayette’s warmth, and his thoughts cling to it. Shame overwhelmed him that he stood before his own hopelessness after everything.  
  
When he looked up again, he looked at Lafayette. His friend had raised his hand as if he wanted to caress Connor’s face soothingly like a mother appeasing her child – like a lover to his dearest. But then Lafayette’s hand wandered to Connor’s shoulder, and Connor let him. He had no impulse to shy away from Lafayette’s touch. Gently the latter’s thumb pressed against his skin, moving slightly circular. Connor let himself fall into this gesture and closed his eyes. He had no parents anymore. Achilles was on his deathbed. But he had Lafayette – the man with the biggest heart one could possess. And his shame morphed into defiance against his hopelessness. He couldn’t give up so easily.  
  
“Ratonhnhaké:ton.” Connor was glad he had told Lafayette his real name. “I maybe don’t understand how high the stakes are. With what troubles you have to fight. But I know that you do it for a just cause and that Lee is the biggest thread. And I also know that you are the only hope for this country that desperately needs a new start. When you don’t do anything, nobody else will. The people need you more than ever. The only way I can leave this country with a quiet conscience, is to know that you will fight the battles nobody else has the courage to.”  
  
A faint smile spread over Connor’s face. That was Lafayette. Putting together every piece of Connor without letting him or Connor get hurt on the shards. In his mind Connor looked at the broken pieces that used to be his goal and collected them determined. Whatever happened with his father, it shouldn’t keep him back. Good men like Lafayette counted on him. The American people counted on him without knowing it. His tribe, no matter how far away, counted on him.  
  
“Don’t worry”, Connor said. His eyes were filled with life again and his shoulders tightened. Relieved Lafayette released Connor’s shoulder. “It’s not over yet.” Connor’s determination unburdened his mind. Connor had experienced a painful setback but despite the lingering hurt he would move on.  
  
Lafayette smiled. “Indeed, _mon ami._ ” Connor let go of his hand and Lafayette started to put on his wig again. He was too aware of his time limit. “I am happy that I could help you”, he admitted. “It would have cut me to the quick to leave you in sorrow and confusion. Now I have to move into my own battle. Yorktown could be the final fight against the British. This country has been through enough.”  
  
Connor returned Lafayette’s coat which the latter shook out to minimize the wrinkles. “They will come back”, Lafayette said seriously. “Those feelings. This emotional confusion. It will feel like there is nothing out there but tiring battles and men to stop. But I am out there too. Don’t forget that.”  
  
“Thank you, Marie-Joseph.” Lafayette giggled happily that Connor still remembered his first name.  
  
“Nothing to thank for, Ratonhnhaké:ton”, he replied before adding calmer: “Rest when you’re back in Homestead.”  
  
“I will.” Lafayette’s smile was warm and his eyes soft when looking at Connor one last time before leaving the cabin. Connor’s hand found his shoulder that still felt Lafayette’s warmth. No, it wasn’t over yet, and despite all the bad in the world there was still a lot of good. He just couldn’t give up. He had to find Charles Lee.

 

“Don’t worry, _monsieur_ Falkner, your captain will be back on his feet soon. It was just a long, draining day. _Amiral de Grasse! Autorisation de monter à borde?”_

_“Accordé, general de la Fayette.”_

 

**_“Bonne chance, Ratonhnhaké:ton.”_ **


	5. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After six years the time for farewell has come…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I apologize for not updating for so long. Real life got in the way a bit.  
> For the same reason this chapter is not beta-read, so if you find mistakes: I am very sorry.  
> Second, a short note to the setting of this chapter:  
> Historically speaking, Lafayette returned to France already 1781 and came back only 1783 for the final independence negotiations between America and Britain. He then stayed until 1784. In this fic I pretend that Lafayette stayed until Evacuation Day (25th November 1783) and just then goes back to France. It’s for the sake of the story line, please bear with me.

_Homestead, end of November 1783_

 

It had cooled down significantly. The animals prepared for hibernation. Lafayette was happy for his high collar that protected him from the starting cold. It was the end of November; a November finally free from the Brits. A November with which all privations would be over. A November that was an end.

Lafayette thought about a November six years ago which had been a start while the first snow had fallen at night. This time the temperature stayed above zero even at night for which Lafayette was very thankful. This year he would escape the gruelling winter homewards. He should be looking forward to it and in a sense he actually did. But when he passed the first houses of Homestead he knew what he would miss bitterly.

In war Lafayette had to hurry from one place to another. His new found friends had been a source of joy in all of this, and generally he had been welcomed everywhere. But Homestead for him was, as the name implied, an embodiment of home, maybe even if it was just because it was Connor’s home.

A neighing ripped him from his thoughts and he noticed that he reached the house of the three young ladies. Viktoria, dressed as a young man for Boston again and on her horse, saw him just that second and grinned. Lafayette had seen her last two days prior during the move-out of the British soldiers. She probably had rode to Homestead to bring the good news personally.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, applause for America’s favourite, fighting Frenchman!”, Viktoria cheered.

“Lafayette?” Connor left the house the same moment, behind him the small figure of Bébhinn, and looked surprised at his friend. Viktoria trotted over to Lafayette.

“For one moment I still have to borrow his attention, Connor”, Viktoria chuckled. Bhinn said something to Connor who followed her behind the house. Viktoria’s eyes got a serious look when she stopped at Lafayette’s side. The latter held out his arm to her like he had seen between her and other men two days ago. She gripped his forearm and he hers.

“America will never forget what you’ve done for it”, Viktoria said. “You were part of what the war needed to be successful.” She faltered before quietly adding: “You were the friend Connor needed so desperately.” Lafayette felt an ice-cold weight at her words in his stomach.

“I wished I’ve done more. I wished I wouldn’t…”

“We all do.” Viktoria smiled softly. “But your homeland needs you. Your family is waiting. That’s just the beginning of your story, Lafayette. Connor’s…Connor’s will find itself anew, now that Lee is dead.” Despite her understanding words Lafayette sighed deeply.

“Can I ask you a favour?”, he finally said and Viktoria nodded. The last years he had come to appreciate his acquaintance, or friendship really, with Viktoria and there was nobody else he would ask for this. “Please have an eye on Connor.”

“I will. Siobh and Bhinn too. Ratonhnhaké:ton is in good hands.” At her correct pronunciation a stone fell from Lafayette’s heart and he took hope that Connor had more people having his back then originally thought.

“ _Merci beaucoup.”_

“ _De rien_.”

Connor rounded the house again and Siobh came out the door, pushing a small basket into his hands. “We both need to go then, _monsieur_. It was an honour to have known you. I wish you safe passage to France.”

“The honour was mine, _mademoiselle_ ”, Lafayette smiled. He dismounted while Viktoria rode away, and finally faced Connor. “Should we go?”

For a while they walked silently to the manor. The only noise between them were the steps of the horse. In a melancholic mood from his thoughts about a different November Lafayette availed himself the opportunity of studying Connor.

His face had lost all youthfully soft features it once possessed. His hair was cut down to a Mohawk which made his strong, angular jaw more prominent. His eyes stared a hundred yards at times. The years had changed him. His deeds had changed him. That applied to both of them.

A faint smile on Connor’s lips broke through Lafayette’s thoughts and pulled him back to reality. With a breathless chuckle he agreed with Connor’s silent assessment. Connor’s hand took his place on Lafayette’s shoulder; a warm weight that stopped his thoughts of an end. Not yet.

 

                It was quiet in the manor, the house maid flown out to the tavern to celebrate the independence with the rest of the small village. In Siobh’s basket were things for a small dinner (even one last small fruit pie) which Lafayette and Connor took silently in the kitchen. At some point Lafayette laughed quietly. “Do you remember when your house maid had cornered me when I came for Lee? I thought she would kill me with her stare should I just move one millimetre.”

“Maybe you just imagined that…like the thing with the beaver…” Lafayette groaned at the memory but at least this evening made no effort to stop Connor from rehashing the story.

They talked for hours and when it got dark, they lightened candles and pushed together the armchairs in the living room. While talking about past meetings and adventures Lafayette thought back to the start again. Six years they had been younger and more naïve, six years softer. They grew up with each other in this time. Six years of war left its marks on their faces.

Quizzically Connor looked at Lafayette when the latter failed to laugh at the right moment. “You know”, Lafayette said and touched Connor’s forearm. “When I saw you the first time in Valley Forge I never would have thought that we would sit here together after the war. And I am very happy that things turned out like this, _mon ami_. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

A small smile took over Connor’s face and he was silent for a moment. Lafayette’s brown hair fell open around his face, his wig _(“…so white, I would never find it in the snow should I lose it!”)_ lay forgotten on a side table. It made him young again and only the shadows in his eyes spoke of the past six years. Connor wondered if Lafayette’s family would agree on that once he returned. Or if the difference for them was bigger.

“It’s good that you do so for your wife”, Connor replied finally. “And your children.” Lafayette laughed.

“It would be good to know you in similar position. As far as I know there are a few unwed women in your village, aren’t there?”

“I don’t think a relationship is for me right now. I have nothing to give yet.” Lafayette shook his head and leaned back, regarding Connor with soft eyes.

“Oh, believe me, Ratonhnhaké:ton, you’re a man with a lot of qualities one can wish for in a partner.”

“One?”, Connor echoed confused about Lafayette’s choice of words. Lafayette smirked that this one little word got Connor’s attention. It was unexplainable to him how Connor seemed to have missed any and every attraction from other men. In Paris, Lafayette was sure of that, things would have been different. Even though most people would have found Connor attractive because of his “exotic nature” and when Lafayette thought about all those conversations that brought up the need to vomit in him, he suddenly was happy that Connor was spared this atrocity.

Still, Lafayette mused, maybe it was because others never saw Connor like this. The shy boy had become a man whose boyish charm was only found in his big dark eyes when he smiled. Others never saw how the body, used to silently stalk and kill hundreds, relaxed in their togetherness and opened up vulnerable in a simple shirt and trousers without fear of sudden danger. Lafayette would never see him like this again.

“Sooner or later you will learn”, Lafayette spoke over the sharp pain in his chest, “that not only man and woman can find each other attractive…” Connor was focused intently on Lafayette during his words. The latter’s eyes looked in an imagined distance, his smile sad. It put years on his youthful appearance, took away the lightness of him in just shirt and trousers. At their first meeting Connor would have never thought he would ever see this quiet side of Lafayette; the side without wig and uniform. The side that gave him unexpected strength through the years.

Connor wanted to reach his hand out to Lafayette to tell him that everything was good. But Lafayette was in an untypically melancholic mood from this last meeting and Connor didn’t know how to handle long good-byes. For him it always had happened fast, from one moment to the next. To watch how Lafayette and their openness slowly slipped out of his hands nearly made Connor wish for another fast moment before he would try to keep Lafayette here. He told himself that they still had this one night.

“However it may be…”, Lafayette cleared his throat suddenly, breaking the tense silence. “I should go to bed if I wish to timely leave tomorrow.” Stiffly he sat up.

“I show you your room.” They didn’t have another night.

 

                When the morning came, Connor saddled Lafayette’s horse himself. For a moment he was tempted to do the same with his own horse to accompany Lafayette for a bit. But then he decided against it. Maybe it was naïve or superstitious but he thought that it would be better for their relationship if it ended where it started – in Homestead.

Thinking back Connor realised that, knowing each other for years, despite having had short conversations whenever Connor had been in the camp, their friendship had just truly started a year later. When a worried Lafayette had awaited him in Homestead’s harbour. It had felt surprisingly good. The voices of the sailors echoed up from the beach where they prepared a ship with crates for Boston. Steps went towards Connor.

“Paris’ harbour will never be such an idyllic vision”, Lafayette sighed beside him and followed Connor’s look down the bay. He was dressed again in wig and uniform. “Maybe I will have enough idleness to find such a spot in France…”

“Idleness?” Connor raised an eyebrow.

“I know. A terrible thought”, Lafayette laughed. “After everything we have done here in America I will not be able to sit still in France.” His next words were spoken more serious. “War is a terrible affair, as honourable as it may be. But this war produced something truly great and good. And I want to thank you that we could experience this together. The years would have been much emptier without you, _mon ami._ ” Lafayette’s Hand tightened against Connor’s shoulder. “I will miss you, Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

Connor mimicked Lafayette’s smile weakly. He had no words to reply. This wasn’t a moment for debates about the horrors and benefits of war, and in no way Connor would have ever been able to express his thankfulness for Lafayette’s friendship and trust with words. “It was an honour”, he finally said, Lafayette’s eyes in his. Lafayette understood. The farewell snuck up on Connor and he couldn’t figure out why it was so hard this time. Lafayette’s hand didn’t leave his shoulder and Connor feared the moment in which Lafayette would notice that he needed to go.

The sun had moved completely over the horizon now, her light still like a milky fog. Quiet and silent the two friends stood on the cliff as if they wanted this moment to become forever. Nobody wanted to move first but time pressed. At the end Lafayette was the one to break the moment by drawing back his hand from Connor’s shoulder.

“You know, I thought about something. One thing I want to give you as a farewell present.” Quizzically Connor looked at him. “When you come visit me in Paris then you will need to know how we great each other.” Smiling Lafayette reached out his hand to Connor which the latter automatically took. He wasn’t sure what exactly Lafayette wanted to show him that was supposed to be so different.

What Connor didn’t expect was that Lafayette would lean in and give him a kiss on his cheeks, barely more than a breeze and still Connor thought he felt Lafayette’s soft lips. One right, one left and another one right. When Lafayette pulled pack again, Connor was left with a faint whiff of his perfume in his nose.

“Don’t forget, in Paris we give friends and family three kisses, not two and not four. Exactly three.” Lafayette said in a jokingly stern fashion but they both knew that Connor would never come to Paris.

“I will remember it”, Connor promised anyway to make it easier for both of them. He had the urge to touch where Lafayette’s lips had been. There was something in the way Lafayette looked at him, his mask slightly crumbling under his insecure eyes if he went too far; if he had given himself away…

_“…that_ _not only man and woman can find each other attractive…”_ And suddenly Lafayette’s words and mood made painfully more sense. Lafayette had opened Connor up like nobody else. What would have been if they had opened up like this too? What more could he have learned? How much more could have been between them? How would it have been?

“It’s time to go”, Lafayette whispered with a calming smile. They couldn’t change anything and still they both were thankful for the time they had and their friendship. Connor nodded and in silence they went to get Lafayette’s horse.

At the entrance of the manor they came to a final halt, Lafayette with his horse’s rein in hand. For a second they just looked at each other, stalling the good-bye a last time. It hurt and they tried to make it less painful.

“Connor”, Lafayette nodded. They both smiled barely visible. Yes, this was easier. Two strangers before their friendship. It was easier saying good-bye to this.

“Kayewla.” Lafayette mounted and steered his horse on the path to Boston.

While riding towards the forest track, Lafayette turned around a last time. In the door frame of the manor stood Connor and lifted a hand for farewell. Lafayette lifted a hand as well. He smiled through his coming tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.  
> I want to thank all the readers who followed and explored Connor’s and Lafayette’s relationship with me until the end. I hope you had as much fun (and pain) like I did.
> 
> The observant ones of you will noticed that it says “Chapter 5/9”. That is because this is only the end of the “Canon” story I wrote about this two aka the end of what I perceive would have been a more realistic version of their relationship.  
> Alas, neither me nor my lovely friend who beta-reads for me (I love you) were satisfied with the “almost” ending. Therefore, I will write three to four more chapters where I will throw a realistic view of their characters out the window and become more self-indulgent by giving them an actual love relationship. It will mostly be re-writes of the last three chapters with possibly a mature chapter in between. Depends.  
> Should you not want to read this: Stop Here. The story has found its end. And it is good.  
> For all others, the chapters will be accordingly named and hopefully follow faster than this last one.
> 
> Have a nice day!


	6. Return (Kitsch Version)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette returns to America...and Connor his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of the "unofficial" chapters aka the chapters I rewrote so Connor and Lafayette actually indulge in a relationship. Simply to satisfy my and my beta-readers needs of a more happy story xD  
> You will find that the changes aren't very stark in this rewritten chapter. Mostly it's gestures and just a little dialogue changes. The end will be completely different from the original chapter though.
> 
> This is NOT a continuation of the first five chapters. Those are finished.  
> The story rating will go up with the new chapters to either mature or explicit.
> 
> Have fun reading (and welcome back)!

_Boston, April 1780_

 

Screaming gulls flew around the masts of the _Hermoine_ as she pulled into the harbor of Boston. Servants philandered with sailors, vendors ballyhooed their goods, soldiers marched past in small groups, and carriages with well-heeled people tried to cleave. Lafayette took a deep breath – the smell of salt and fish. He was back.

“ _Monsieur_!” Rident he was grabbed by the arm as soon as he made two steps away from the plank. In front of him stood Viktoria in working clothes. “ _Monsieur_ , there you are!”

“Mr. Wickham!”, Lafayette answered her laugh and they shook hands before giving each other a clasp on the shoulder. “I see, the year didn’t do any harm to you. How’s business?”

“You didn’t change a bit either, thank God. I can’t complain business-wise. Do you have quarters already? Things to pursue?”

“No lodging so far. Just the plan to catch up on things.”

“A little tip: Oyster House.”

 

                The Oyster House tavern was easy to find, being still in the harbor quartier. The innkeeper send Lafayette to room number 3 after the latter said his name. Which puzzled Lafayette a bit and made him wonder why exactly Vicky had recommended this tavern for a stay. In truth, Lafayette had hoped to ride to Homestead right away but manners dictated that he made a few visits of acquaintances in Boston who knew he was coming.

Lafayette sighed quietly. He wanted to go to Homestead. He missed Connor, sporadic letters hadn’t been enough to completely kill this feeling in Paris. For now Lafayette would survive though, the sleeping arrangement was good enough and he had survived worse anyway. When he finally opened the door to his room he was presented with somebody he didn’t expect but would never lament over seeing.

“Connor!”, he called out excited and strode towards the young man with opened arms. It felt like an eternity that he had seen the indigenous and his heart sang with happiness.

“Lafayette”, Connor smiled warmly. Lafayette stopped in his motion to hug Connor, remembering that his friend wasn’t comfortable with touches. To his surprise it was now Connor who offered him his hand for a warm press and a reassuring hand on the shoulder all of which Lafayette gladly reciprocated. “Welcome back to America.”

“A truly lovely welcome. First _mademoiselle_ Viktoria and now you, _mon ami_. I am back.” With a smile Lafayette sat down at the table while taking his wig of for comfort. He noticed the basket with fruit pies.

“A little attention from Bhinn and Siobh.” Lafayette laughed happily and pointed Connor to finally sit down.

“It has its merits that I wrote you I would come”, Lafayette said while musing how lovely it was that at least parts of Connor’s little town already treated him like family.

“How was your work in France?”, Connor switched topics after Lafayette scarfed down the first pie.

“Successful! Even though I spend the first days under house arrest.” Inquiring Connor looked at him. “The decree that French officers are not allowed to serve here?” Connor nodded at the reminder of their first conversation. “But just a few days afterwards I was already on the hunt with the king as you know. The alliance will make our countries stronger than ever. I couldn’t write it since the letter would have arrived later than I but I won over General Rochambeau and with him 6000 soldiers!”

“That sounds very good.” At Connor’s serious tone Lafayette lowered his hand that already held the next pie.

“You don’t give me much hope, _mon ami_? What happened? Has Commander Washington roped you in for something again? Didn’t you wrote that you weren’t helping him further than the Fort West Point-ordeal?” Lafayette was ready to make plans to scold the necessary commanders for using Connor again but his friend shook his head. Comfortingly it wasn’t his noble heart that led him to be a puppet again.

“No, nothing of this sort. Though the Continental Army had endured a lot of setbacks. Your help is desperately needed.”

“I heard as much from Alexander. But please don’t deviate from the topic, Connor, I am worried for you. What bothers you then? Is it this bastard Lee? You haven’t written any news about him in your letters.” At the way Connor’s mouth hardened Lafayette knew that he had hit the nail on the head. And he was overcome with frustration that Connor must feel at this point.

“ _Incroyable!_ ”, he swore. “His command was withdrawn AND he has a gunshot wound. How does he do that?”

“He has…the right connections”, was Connor’s thoughtful and much calmer answer. By now Lafayette was used to the feeling of secrecy that Connor gave off. Even in their letters to each other there lay secrets between the lines. Secrets that Lafayette knew to stay away from until Connor deemed him trustworthy enough to be informed about them. It didn’t matter for him anyway, he would always have Connor’s back.

“My offering still stands, Connor, if need be”, Lafayette simply reminded him of his promise in Homestead a year ago.

“I know. Thank you.” The small smile lifted all seriousness from Connor’s face, all brooding lines around eyes and mouth. Lafayette liked a good brooding person, mind you, but smiling was something Connor seemed to do little and it was much more fulfilling for Lafayette to see it on him. It looked good on him and gave Lafayette his happy mood back. He inhaled the next small fruit pie while stretching out his legs under the table, bumping into Connor’s.

“How was Paris?” Connor’s legs bumped back friendly and Lafayette couldn’t help but grin while starting this little childish game under the table.

“Splendid! Nothing can surpass the comfort of home. And everywhere people speak about the revolution, thanks to Jefferson who does all he can to gather support. A brilliant man. But you already know that. Writing letters with you was a great comfort when I became sick in my longing for coming back.” Lafayette’s smile was soft, looking at Connor with sincerity at this last statement. He wanted his friend to know just how much it had meant to him.

“I do know this all, yes. But reading is not the same as listening to you telling.” Under the table their feet settled with each other comfortably at this statement. Lafayette nearly blushed from the utter relief that he wasn’t alone; that Connor valued and missed him just as much as Lafayette him. So much that he was happy to listen to Lafayette ramble everything all over again just to hear him speak.

When he examined their relationship so far, it consisted of big parts of Lafayette talking and Connor willingly listening. Even with his growing affection for his friend with every meeting, he had to admit that he knew little about him. What he knew was that Connor didn’t want him to know certain things. And when he regarded Connor like he did now…did he really need to know everything to feel connected with him?

With the man with the young face that was hardened from life but could turn soft with every smile. With the man whose dark eyes saw and critically analyzed everything but also could become wide and open with emotions. With the man whose hands had killed countless people and lifted the heaviest things, just to shy away from friendly contacts with other humans and grab each other in a nervous tick. Though they didn’t seem to do the last thing in Lafayette’s presence anymore…

Lafayette smiled unconsciously which Connor mirrored. It eased the latter that Lafayette looked well despite the passage (and his otherwise ravenous appetite or the fruit pies). The traces of harsh winters and supply problems were gone from his face. His cheeks were full again, his eyes had found their youthful shine in Paris. For now the horrors of the army seemed locked away safely in the deepest corner of his mind.

“What?”, Connor asked when Lafayette kept smiling at him instead of talking up a storm about Paris.

“I just noticed that you’ve never told me your actual name”, Lafayette observed. With an interested look he supported his chin on his hand and leaned closer to Connor. “You know my full name and the one the Oneida gave me. And I still only have the name people call you for sake of convenience.”

For the sake of convenience…Connor wouldn’t call it that. Connor rather had been a camouflage for him to make people accessible to him.

“You think the people call me like this for convenience?”

“You made very clear at our first meeting that people don’t bother to get the pronunciation right.” Not exactly Connor’s words but Lafayette was smart enough to know what had been behind the comment of “a mouthful”. And surely the name was difficult to pronounce for Europeans but it still was a shame. Lafayette wanted to try, he wanted to know. No matter how long it would take him to learn. Another heart-wrenching questions popped in his head: For how long had Connor not been called by his birth name? He needed to learn his name just for that reason.

Connor’s eyes clung to the table. The unspoken, and probably unintentional too, insight in Lafayette’s words hit him. Yes, Achilles gave him the name as an entrance into the new world. But by now Connor had become aware that he started a new life with the new name. Ratonhnhaké:ton had stopped existing when he started his assassin training. The last time somebody called him by his right name, it was spoken with anger and pain of betrayal. Connor had felt like his name had shattered once and for all.

Lafayette was eager to learn his name, Connor could see that. He would be even more than willful to erase all the pain if he knew just how forgotten Connor’s name felt, how broken. But could Connor really give him his name? Give another person the chance to break what was left? He thought the best of Lafayette but it was always a possibility, even an unintentional one, and it was so hard…

A faint touch against his calf brought Connor back to reality. Lafayette’s eyes had become soft, soothing. “If it pains you, you don’t have to tell me.” Of course he understood, Lafayette always did. Most of the soldiers and generals saw Lafayette as this naïve, blustery, young man but they often forgot that he was armed with an acuteness of mind and power of observation. Much more so, he was in possession of an open heart which Connor admired so much about him.

“It’s…I don’t even know how it must be to give up your name and introduce yourself with another one just because people don’t even want to try for a good pronunciation. I cannot promise that I will be better the first few times. But when the British and Germans can learn French then I can learn to pronounce your name right”, Lafayette explained and nodded reinforcingly afterwards. “But I will only do so if you allow me this privilege.”

Subconsciously Lafayette reached out shyly with his hand to Connor. To offer him physical support should he need it. This coupled with his wording of “privilege” to know and use Connor’s name… When was the last time somebody payed attention to Connor’s feelings and comfort like this? Absentmindedly he pushed his fingers under Lafayette’s, not a real grip just feeling them resting on his own, light and soft but there. “Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

A marveling expression set itself in Lafayette’s eyes, he drew a deep breath. Then he smiled warmly, all his attention on Connor. “Can you repeat that again, please?” And Connor did.

The first try didn’t sound half as mangled as Connor had heard it from colonists, mainly because those never tried. But Lafayette, this man who came to fight for the independence of a foreign land, was happy to try until he got it right. Still, in a reflex, Connor could feel his mouth twist minimally. Of course Lafayette noticed and took it in good humor.

“ _Pardon_. I will improve”, he laughed. Connor tapped his fingers against Lafayette’s in an encouraging apology for his reaction. Lafayette probably didn’t know how his seriousness for this topic warmed Connor.

 

                “Ratonhnhaké:ton”, Lafayette said after ten minutes of listening and repeating. It punched all air out of Connor’s lungs.

“Correct”, he said a little breathless, his hand grabbing onto Lafayette’s. He hadn’t heard his name in such a long time. He wasn’t prepared for the emotions the whole thing would trigger. Something tore in his chest. Lafayette held his hand patiently, watching every motion in concern if he had pushed for too much.

“Do you need a moment?” He didn’t dare to say Connor’s name again in fear it would make the matter worse. Connor looked like he struggled to be overpowered by his emotions. Lafayette would have never thought that it was this bad and all he wanted to do was to enclose Connor in his arms and tell him that he would call him only “Ratonhnhaké:ton” from now on. That this part of him still existed and was still loved and valid.

“It’s…it’s been a while”, Connor confessed with a faint burst of laugh. The manic thought welled up in him that Lafayette’s joyful pronunciation of his name could erase the memory of Kanen’tó:kon’s disgust. That Lafayette’s love for him could seal the cracks. He pushed the thought aside with all his might.

“I’m sorry if it’s been too much”, Lafayette apologized sensibly. Connor shook his head. “Then”, Lafayette concluded, “I am very thankful that you shared your name with me, Ratonhnhaké:ton.” Again a punch in his lungs.

“I wouldn’t share it with anybody else”, Connor replied truthfully. He couldn’t pinpoint when Lafayette had started to mean so much to him; when he had started to trust Lafayette with not just their friendship but all his emotions and thoughts. When had he started to think of more than just respect for Lafayette? He only knew that he had started to notice when he wrote letters due to Lafayette’s absence.

He could hear the love from Lafayette in his name and all the memories came back with it – his mother and his carefree childhood, the songs sang and the warm embrace to put him to sleep. The memory of security and peace, of home. “I became Connor when I left my tribe and was apprenticed to Achilles”, Connor heard himself say, slowly bearing his inner secrets to Lafayette. “Back then it seemed to be the right thing. To leave the tribe to protect them. But maybe I just did it because I had no family to hold me. My mother died when I was a child, in a fire started by Charles Lee. Even though the whole tribe took care of me afterwards…”

“…it’s not the same as the care of your mother”, Lafayette finished understandingly when Connor couldn’t.

“I became Connor. The only one who still called me by my name after I left was Kanen’tó:kon. He was the only one from the tribe I still saw. He was the last one who called me by my name before I killed him. Full of the thought that I had betrayed him.” Lafayette’s stomach cramped painfully at that confession of loneliness and cast out. It was even worse than he initially thought. Carefully he placed his second hand over Connor’s, pressing their legs warmly together under the table – a different form of an embrace. One that Connor didn’t shy away from, one that he wasn’t overwhelmed by.

“That must have been terrible. I can’t even imagine to be in a situation like this.” Lafayette’s thumb stroke Connor’s. “I cannot replace your tribe but I can say and scream your name a thousand times in the most joyful way, so you don’t feel alone anymore, Ratonhnhaké:ton. Your name shouldn’t be painful.” In Lafayette’s eyes, his words and his assuring smile Connor found the feeling of home again. Lafayette had returned from France and Connor wasn’t alone anymore.

 

                For a bit they sat in comfortable silence, Connor truly feeling the warmth from Lafayette’s presence. The latter didn’t disturb him and instead studied his face more. His barely smiling mouth that still conveyed the happiness. His dark eyes staring at their casually joint hands softly. Under the table their feet and legs still pressed warmly against each other, anchoring them.

Lafayette was acutely aware of the enormous act of faith Connor had showed by giving him his real name. Out of his mouth it had still felt as fragile as it still must be to Connor from Kanen’tó:kon. In the future, so Lafayette hoped, it would sound confident and strong again…and loved if Connor would allow him so. His heart fluttered thinking of Connor’s trust in him to not misuse his name. And to himself Lafayette swore to never call him Connor again but only Ratonhnhaké:ton.

“I can barely remember my mother”, Lafayette broke the silence after thinking back to all Connor had bared to him. “I spend maybe four years of my childhood with her. My father died when I was two years old, and after that my mother moved to her mother in Paris. I stayed in Chavaniac with my grandmother from father’s side. When I was eleven years old, my mother called me to Paris. She died not even two years later.”

Just like Connor he had (in a sense) lost his mother too soon. But he had nobody to blame and so he had always blamed himself as a child. She was…a sensible topic more so than his father because of this. But just like Connor had proved his trust in Lafayette, Lafayette trusted Connor with this. “For a while when I was young, I considered it my fault that she left both times. It’s hard when you have nobody to blame for this but time and illness.” Now Connor’s thumb grazed his in comforting fashion.

“And even though it still hurts sometimes, there isn’t much left of her in my mind. Not even her face. I remember her perfume, of all things. And that she told me once I should live more careful than my father had.” Lafayette didn’t look at Connor while speaking this sad truth before giving a hoarse chuckle at a following thought. “You would think she knew better at that point. We Lafayettes have a reputation of heroic courage and chivalry but we are also accredited with a certain ignorance for danger.”

“You clearly didn’t took her advice to heart if I think about all your actions…”, Connor replied, making Lafayette chuckle again. He mirrored the teasing sparkle in Connor’s eyes.

“What can I do? Apparently it runs strong in the male line of my family. May it is better that she doesn’t abide by us anymore. Not later than now I would have driven her to her grave.” Connor smiled and Lafayette suddenly lost himself in laughter of relief.

 

                Time flew by while they talked about their childhood how you can only talk about it when you have left it behind you. Connor commented that Siobhán would always tease him that he sounded like an old man when he talked like this. Lafayette agreed giggling that they both indeed did sound like they already spend their evening of life. It was a nice thought to have in this times of war. The fruit pies disappeared quickly. Reluctantly Connor announced his departure.

Their feet left the warm entanglement and it felt a bit like leaving home. Where they had touched before now settled cold, each other a fleeting memory on skin. For a few seconds they stood by the door in silence, looking at each other.

“The room is yours as long as you need it”, Connor then informed Lafayette. “The innkeeper owes me, so don’t worry about paying for it.”

“You are too good to me, Ratonhnhaké:ton”, Lafayette replied happily. What had just happened in the last hours felt weird but right. It meant a lot to Lafayette who could feel his chest burst just thinking about it. And he needed to know if it was in Connor’s interest to pursue it further whenever they would meet again.

“You know it’s no problem”, Connor said amused.

“Still, allow me to give you this as a thanks at least.” Lafayette leaned forward, slowly and watching if Connor would step back. He didn’t. Softly Lafayette’s lips landed on his right cheek then his left as light as breath, and leaving behind prickling warmth. When Lafayette leaned back again their eyes crossed. Connor could see the silent questions and yet unspoken feelings. Lafayette could see the answers.

“I hope we soon meet again”, Connor smiled and opened the door.

“I hope too. Don’t be a stranger.”

“I could swear I heard this somewhere before.”

“Vicky has a talent to plant phrases in your head.” They laughed. “It was good seeing you again.”

“It was.”

“Just…one more thing. Don’t forget that if you ever need my help you will have it. No matter what.” No matter what would happen the next few times they would meet each other. Connor understood, nodded and left. Upon closing the door the room seemed much lonelier to Lafayette but he still felt touched by what had happened. His eyes fell on the empty basket on the table. Maybe he would have time to pass by Homestead before riding to Washington. But first he needed to find Viktoria.

 


	7. A Child's Suffering (Kitsch Version)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The emotional aftermath of Fort George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, more chances in the actions than the dialogue.  
> Enjoy <3

_  
North Atlantic by Fort George, September 1781_

 

 

“Request permission to come aboard, _monsieur_ Falkner.”  
  
“Permission granted, Major-General Lafayette.”  
  
Quickly Lafayette went across the laid-out plank to enter the Aquila. Admiral de Grasse let the plank be reeled in again but gave one last verbal warning to Lafayette that he would send for him after one hour.  
  
“He’s in his cabin. Got it real bad”, Falkner said quietly to Lafayette. Worry was written all over the face of this hard-boiled man which made Lafayette fear even more for Connor. He rushed to his companion.  
  
The ship’s doctor just left the cabin when Lafayette arrived there. Quietly he closed the door behind him and looked at Lafayette seriously. “He’s battered but he’ll survive. Most likely a concussion from the explosions around him and a lot of cuts and stab wounds. I order strict bed rest so that his wounds don’t open again.”  
  
When Lafayette entered, Connor lay in a bed that seemed too small for his figure. Parts of his upper body and arms were wrapped in bandages and on a small table stood forgotten a bowl with bloodied water and a cloth. “Ratonhnhaké:ton”, it escaped Lafayette, see-saw between shock and relief.  
  
Instead of answering, Connor averted his eyes. His face seemed to be made out of stone. It needed no words for Lafayette to understand. They had failed. After everything planned, after working for every outside help, after all these years; again and again and again…  
  
“ _Putain de merde! Ce fils de pute_!” The bowl crashed against the wooden wall. Water and blood wet the ground while the cloth landed there with a wet smack. “ _Que le diable l’emporte!_ ” Lafayette was gripped by rage and hurt and the traces of his fears for Connor’s life. He didn’t know who to be mad at first. At Charles Lee, this bastard, who escaped time and time again; who had hurt Connor again and again? At his French countrymen and the Continental Army that they had claimed help for themselves first as always? Or at himself, he who had promised Connor to help in every way concerning Lee? He who in the end couldn’t help the person that was the dearest to him despite all his words and attempts…  
  
“Sit”, came the hoarse whisper from Connor. He still didn’t look at Lafayette but his voice alone made Lafayette take a deep breath and deflate unto the small, free space on the bed beside Connor’s legs. The emotional tumult, the guilt, the frustration radiated off Connor and Lafayette felt hopeless and tired. How? How did everything go so wrong? They had done everything…  
  
He removed his wig and threw it disgusted on the table where a moment ago the water bowl had resided. Connor remained silent and Lafayette feared that he was also angry at him for promising and not delivering. But he saw Connor’s eyes drift into an unknown distance and he carefully took his hand, trying to anchor him. A help with his emotions Connor had seemed to appreciate all the other times they had met since Lafayette’s return.  
  
Though not looking directly at him, Connor now turned his head in Lafayette’s direction and intertwined their hands as good as possible in their positions. They sat in silence with each other, grabbing each other to not get lost in their own thoughts. Lafayette could feel tears welling up inside him just thinking about Lee, the man who hurt Connor so profoundly; who had taken everything from him, getting away and leaving Connor in this state. And Lafayette’s heart quivered in relief when he realized that Connor had survived the encounter, that he was still alive and with Lafayette.  
  
“My father was there…”, Connor quietly said and Lafayette raised his eyes from their hands to his loved one.  
  
“Haythem…” Lafayette immediately saw the portrait in Connor’s secret basement in front of his eyes. The man with the proud posture and unyielding touch around the mouth; the man Connor had waved at with a dismissiveness born from pain and introduced to Lafayette as “The man Lee works for. My father” upon the latter’s visit at Homestead. “Was Lee even there?”  
  
Connor shook his head, eyes closed against the pain Lafayette felt. “My father knew I was coming.” Connor’s jaw tensed visibly and his grip around Lafayette’s hand got tighter. Anew Lafayette glanced over what he could see of Connor’s body. Under every bandage lay multiple wounds, stab wounds and bruises and cuts. Lafayette’s voice chocked in his throat before he could ask anything. He didn’t need to. Connor’s father had hurt his son more than just physically but it was Connor who came out alive.  
  
“ _Mon dieu…_ ” The whispered expression wasn’t registered by Lafayette himself. They had never talked about Haythem Kenway. Lafayette knew a proverbial line when he saw one, and to be honest there had been other aspects their short meetings left them to explore – more urgent and beautiful ones. It all came to a nail-splintering hold now.  
  
A barely noticeable sound of pain bought Lafayette’s focus back to Connor who currently was trying to sit up. “Ratonhnhaké:ton, _non_ , your wounds…”, Lafayette reprimanded but Connor’s defiant look shut him up. So Lafayette helped him up, rearranged the pillows and scrunched up his blue coat for extra comfort in Connor’s back.  
  
“If you need anything…”, Lafayette offered but Connor shook his head. Multiple emotions displayed on his face but mostly anger because he didn’t know how to handle his feelings and some shame because he was stopped by his father and even now let himself be influenced by him. And then there was grief and regret buried underneath all of it.  
  
“Lafayette, what…?” Connor’s confused look up was nearly sluggish and very tired but Lafayette was happy that he looked up at all. He planted his warmth weight on Connor’s thighs, bowing forward to make their foreheads touch. Connor’s shuttering breath was felt against his lips. Lafayette’s hands embraced Connor’s face softly.  
  
“I always wondered…”, Connor eventually started after he had taken in Lafayette’s comfort, “what man my father would be. I knew my friends’ fathers but my mother’s side always remained empty. I knew that he was white. But not why he left…or even came.” His eyes were angled downwards but Lafayette could still see them become soft under his childhood trauma; under the memory of a small boy who couldn’t understand the world just yet. Lafayette felt like looking into a mirror from all the times he had explained his children that there was no second grandfather for them.  
  
Lafayette moved his head to the side, planting a kiss to Connor’s cheek and then behind his ear before he used the position to pull Connor into a hug. Nearly immediately Connor buried his face in the crook of Lafayette’s neck. “I was naïve”, Connor chocked out when in this sheltered position his feelings felt easier to share, “childish to believe that we could work together. That besides all those centuries of history between our orders and all our differences, we could find a way together. I let him use me. I let myself be blinded by his words and gestures, just because…” Connor stopped. His shame applied to his own feelings, his human needs. Oh, Lafayette knew this feeling too well.  
  
“We all…”, he said softly, his fingers sneaking into Connor’s hair, “…wish for the acceptance of our parents. No matter how old we become. My father was a phantom to me, a portrait in a saloon and one cavaliers’ story after another. Deep inside, despite my young years, I hated him for a long time for leaving me. But when you think I would not have embraced him in my arms the second he would have stood before me again…”  
  
Lafayette sighed. For years he had told himself this, wishing to finally accept its truth. He felt his old wound opening again. He closed his arms tighter around Connor. With every meeting they have become more understanding of each other’s feelings and Lafayette felt Connor’s struggle. He saw his loved one having the same wound as him but not admitting to having it in the first place. Lafayette wished to spare him pain like this but he couldn’t and so his own wound bled stronger for Connor’s.  
  
“There is something immeasurable strong in this ability – in this boundless love and willingness to forgive that children possess. Few of us keep it when we grow up”, Lafayette said quietly, reflecting on people whose paths he had crossed.  
  
“Lafayette…?” Connor’s arms wound tighter around his waist.  
  
“No, Ratonhnhaké:ton. I learned a lot from you. But let me teach you something this time.” Lafayette spoke over tears that started to flow despite his intentions. “I forgave my mother that she had left me the exact moment I saw her again for the first time. Just to feel betrayed when she died soon after. It took a long time to get over this. I couldn’t accept that I had become her son through and through again despite the best of my knowledge. That I had been naïve enough to believe her affection would stay for a long time. And I couldn’t accept that, in the end, I simply mourned the _idea_ of a perfect world with my mother when I should have known better.”  
  
The warm and careful press of Connor’s hand along his spine anchored Lafayette and he lay his head on Connor’s shoulder for a moment. “Those things make us human. They tell us that we still have a chance. When you stop hoping, Ratonhnhaké:ton…the world would be lost would we ever lose hope. It doesn’t make us naïve and it’s not a bad trait. Hope drives us to be a better version of ourselves and she lets us overcome situations we never thought we would survive.”  
  
Firmly Lafayette looked into Connor’s eyes – as well as he could over his veil of tears, at least. He cupped Connor’s face again. “I have the utmost respect for you, Ratonhnhaké:ton, and for the hope you kept in yourself after all this. I know that it will not mean much to you for the moment, but still, your strength to hope and your ability to sustain this hope until the bitter end…It makes you the greatest man I ever had the honour to call my friend and love.”  
  
The way Connor stopped breathing for a second could be heard. He looked down, barely processing what Lafayette’s word had broken inside him. “It hurts just as much to lose the idea of a father as it hurts to lose one’s father. It’s the same for everybody. And if you can’t mourn for this then let me do it for you.” Lafayette’s words and his empathy for Connor touched the latter deeply. To see Lafayette grief for him where Connor couldn’t relieved him immensely. And more so, he could barely comprehend how this man still loved him – after having killed his own father and falling in near apathy afterwards from guilt and hurt.  
  
“You already do”, Connor whispered, pulling Lafayette closer to himself again. As blunt as Lafayette had revealed his wound as carefully he had tended it, and Connor felt thankful and protected. Connor felt like the last time someone treated him like this had been ages ago…  
  
The feeling of loneliness overwhelmed him. He had no parents anymore. Achilles was on his deathbed. People like Stephane followed him but didn’t approach closer. His idea, his fight, his goal swam into an unknown distance out of reach; it shattered on the floor. Between his arms he felt Lafayette’s warmth pressing against him, and his thoughts cling to it. Shame overwhelmed him that he stood before his own hopelessness after everything.  
  
“Ratonhnhaké:ton…” It felt healing to hear his name from Lafayette’s lips. Connor looked at his face mere centimetres from his. It was an awkward angle which wrangled a half-smile from his lips. Thumbs caressed his cheek bones, his closing eyes, his brows, while fine fingers softly anchored his face. Connor let himself fall into this gesture. He had no parents anymore. Achilles was on his deathbed. But he had Lafayette – the man with the biggest heart one could possess and an ability to love that enthralled him. And his shame morphed into defiance against his hopelessness. He couldn’t give up so easily.  
  
As if reading his mind Lafayette began to speak quietly but firmly: “I maybe don’t understand how high the stakes are. With what troubles you have to fight. But I know that you do it for a just cause and that Lee is the biggest thread. And I also know that you are the only hope for this country that desperately needs a new start. When you don’t do anything, nobody else will. The people need you more than ever. The only way I can ever leave this country with a quiet conscience, is to know that you will fight the battles nobody else has the courage to.”  
  
A faint smile spread over Connor’s face. That was Lafayette. Putting together every piece of Connor without letting him or Connor get hurt on the shards. In his mind Connor looked at the broken pieces that used to be his goal and collected them determined. Whatever happened with his father, it shouldn’t keep him back. Lafayette counted on him. The American people counted on him without knowing it. His tribe, no matter how far away, counted on him.  
  
And what it took for Connor to realise this again was one certain Frenchman in his lap with a careful but firm hand. A Frenchman who fell in love with a lot of things on a daily bases but decided to permanently bless Connor with his love. “ ** _Konoronhkwa._** ” He barely registered his own words but he felt them with every fibre of his being. He didn’t know if Lafayette guessed what he said but the kiss to his temple felt affirmative.  
  
“You need to teach me that word later”, Lafayette chuckled over his racing heart. Over his shuddering realisation that he could have lost this moment if Connor had been less skilled.  
  
“Yes, later…”, Connor mumbled before loosening their hug and looking at Lafayette with life returned to his eyes. “I still have some things to do. It’s not over yet.” Connor’s determination unburdened Lafayette’s mind and heart. The setback was painful but Connor would be able to fully move on eventually.  
  
“I need to go”, Lafayette sighed. “De Grasse is waiting for me. We’re going to tackle the British in Yorktown. It needs to be the last fight. This country has been through enough.” Connor didn’t want to let Lafayette go, his presence an immense comfort for him. But he knew both their duty. They served this country and its revolution. This needed to be done.  
  
Lafayette moved off Connor’s lap and stood up to grab his wig again. He left a cold spot behind, making Connor feel the loss physically. Connor returned Lafayette’s coat which the latter shook out to minimize the wrinkles. “They will come back”, Lafayette said seriously. “Those feelings. This emotional confusion. It will feel like there is nothing out there but tiring battles and men to stop. But…I am out there too. I will always be out there, trusting and loving you. Don’t forget that.”  
  
“I will not”, Connor promised. How could he? How could he ever forget Lafayette? And then a fear hit him. That this could be their last meeting. Connor had survived his father. But Lafayette rode into a battle of bigger scale. His love and trust for Connor could be lost in the next couple of days. Fear gripped his stomach cold. He wouldn’t be able to handle losing Lafayette just now.  
  
“Ratonhnhaké:ton?” Lafayette was worried at Connor’s paling face. Then suddenly he was gripped by his jacket and pulled in. Their mouths clashed uncomfortably and awkward, Connor not really knowing what to do. So Lafayette steered the kiss into a more comfortable form, sitting down one last time. He felt Connor’s desperation. Felt that this could be their last moment and suddenly the discomfort at the thought of death settled in Lafayette. After battle and battle Connor made him care again to live.  
  
“Come to Homestead afterwards”, Connor said with a voice bordering on pleading. “When the battle is over.”  
  
Lafayette’s smile was soft and warm when looking at Connor. “I promise.” Finally he stood up. “You rest up there. And then you teach me that word. And I you how to kiss.” The joke eased them both and made it easier for Lafayette to leave the cabin. Connor looked after him. It wasn’t over yet. He couldn’t give up now. He would rest and then find Charles Lee to bring everything to an end.  
  
“Don’t worry, _monsieur_ Falkner, your captain will be back on his feet soon. It was just a long, draining day. _Amiral de Grasse! Autorisation de monter à borde?”_  
  
“Accordé, general de la Fayette.”

 

 

**_“Je t’aime, Ratonhnhaké:ton.”_ **


End file.
